Turning the mundane into funny...Just for your reading pleasure. What the hell is she pointing at?

Sunday, December 19, 2010

Santa's Cookies...

Growing up, I always looked forward to baking and decorating Christmas cookies.My family and I would make a night of it.Bowls of colored icing, red and green sugar, and candies were lined up at the ready. A huge pile of sugar cookies in all kinds of festive shapes was placed on the table for “Operation Decorate”…

In addition to decorating all our ‘regular’ Christmas cookies, we were always asked to make a special cookie for Santa.You know, a real stand out…A bakery equivalent of a Michelangelo.A cookie that we felt would really make him drop a mother load of gifts under our tree…

My brother and I got older and eventually got the joke when it came to Santa’s existence.On cookie night, however, we were told in no uncertain terms to act like fervent Jolly Fat Guy believers for the sake of the younger kids.In other words, “Make a goddamn Santa cookie and act like you’re having fun.”

Given his non existence, we knew our parents ate Santa’s special cookies, so my brother and I went out of our way to make ours extra special.You know those silver dragets?The culinary equivalent ofbb ammo?My brother slathered a layer of icing, applied about 50 dragets, then smoothed another layer of icing atop the bullets to conceal them.I was a little more obvious.I placed about 20 red hot cinnamon candies on my Santa cookie.We then would show our special cookie to my parents as they sat at the decorating table with the hardcore Santa believers.

“Check this out Dad!You think Santa will like it?” I asked as the weight of the red hot candies nearly pulled the icing off the cookie’s surface.I’d sit amused as I watched him act as though I wasn’t being funny.He’d dart me a look of complete disbelief and acted like he didn’t hear me.I continued, “No really Dad.I heard he loves red hots, I’m glad I made him this cookie. I’m sure he’ll eat every bite.”My brother, on the other hand, was more covert. He didn’t say anything about the hidden dragets under his plainly iced cookie and opted to potentially hear about broken teeth on Christmas morning.

Maybe you had to be there, but it’s this time of year that I reminisce about growing up in a large family.I always find myself smiling and laughing at the antics we pulled as kids, especially around the holidays…I’m sure you have of a few stories of your own.